


A Swarm Of Bunnies

by WhatEvenAmI



Series: Beware the Killer Rabbits [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Family, Bed-Wetting, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Nightmares, Pancakes, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatEvenAmI/pseuds/WhatEvenAmI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plot bunnies for the amazing fic <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4796900/chapters/10978151">You Look Familiar Like My Mirror</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Family Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/gifts).
  * Inspired by [You Look Familiar Like My Mirror](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4796900) by [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/pseuds/Lauralot). 



> Plot bunnies! Probably more of the 'cute' variety than the 'savage killer rabbit' type for this series.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's not that Tony doesn't like kids, it's just that he's really not awake enough to handle the shaking child curling up against his side._

Tony jolts awake when Pepper gasps. It takes him a minute to realize there's no impending threat, only a tiny shuddering form at the foot of the bed.

"Mommy," the kid whimpers.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" Pepper sits up, reaching out to pull James closer, "Did you have a bad dream?"

"Uh-huh. I'm _scared_." And suddenly the kid is scrambling in between them, scrubbing at his eyes with his fists, and it's not that Tony doesn't like kids, it's just that he's really not awake enough to handle the shaking child curling up against his side.

He awkwardly pats the little guy's head. "Hey, okay, you're fine. Nothing scary and, uh, murder-y in the Tower. Oh, wait, there is. I forgot we invited a HYDRA ex-commander to live two floors down because that wasn't actually my decision. Other than Kentucky Fried, though, I think we're fine."

The kid lets out a sob, and even in the dark Tony can feel Pepper glaring at him. Okay, maybe not the best comment to make right at this moment. It may come as a surprise to everyone he's charmed over the years, but Tony's not always really good with people, especially when he hasn't had his coffee.

"You know your daddy's here, right?" Tony tries, "He, uh...he'll keep you safe. From...injustice, and HYDRA, and everyone who was ever wrong on the Internet. He does have a weak spot for costume designers, but it's always good to know we can get him in tights if the need arises. Anyway. You could, uh, go to him?" It's not that he's not sympathetic. He is. But he's exhausted and not great with kids and he just wants to go the fuck back to sleep.

James sniffles again, his voice quavering. "Daddy an' Bucky are sleeping in the Commander's room and JARVIS said I'm not allowed in!" He breaks into a wail, "They all have each other and they don't _want_ me anymore!"

So there's a new piece of information that Tony really didn't need to hear. "I don't think that's why, kiddo."

"Your daddy loves you very much," Pepper says firmly, wrapping a spare blanket around James, "Sometimes grown-ups just need alone time with each other, sweetie. That's all. I'm sure if you tell JARVIS you need your Daddy, he'll wake him up for you. But you're welcome to sleep here if you want to."

James sniffles and wipes his nose with the edge of the blanket. "'Kay."

And the kid's still taking shaky breaths and Tony does know what it's like to have nightmares that linger into his waking hours and so he finds himself talking about working on the Iron Man suit because James likes stories and who doesn't get calmed down by science?

He even starts getting some giggles out of the little guy, which Tony totally isn't resentful about at all, it's just that his struggles in engineering aren't  _that_ funny. He got catapulted against a wall a couple times and sprayed with a fire extinguisher. No big deal, routine science procedures, but for some reason it drives the kid into side-splitting laughter.

Eventually they all fall asleep curled together in a pile of blankets, and okay, this isn't so bad. For someone who's not great with kids.

*

The next morning Tony wakes before it's light out. Water. He needs water. Then he'll go back to bed and catch up on all the sleep he missed during his last round of armor modification.

Only he stumbles over a large form curled at the foot of the bed. "What the—"

It's Winter, of course, scrambling back onto his knees, wild-eyed. "I'm sorry. I—I'm sorry."

"Nah, I get it, I've had those nights, wake up really confused on someone else's floor. Happens. But, uh, what are you doing here?"

"I—had a dream. It left me confused. I tried to find Steve, but—"

"I've already heard way too much about that sleeping situation."

"And James wasn't in his room, and JARVIS said he was here." Winter blinks, "I didn't want to be alone. But I didn't...know...if you'd want..." He's blinking, eyes downcast. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I...I can go..."

Tony sighs heavily. "That bed is big enough for four people."

Winter stares at him with huge eyes full of dawning hope. It's...cute, in a weird kind of way. Then he's easing himself under the covers, pulling them tightly around himself and smiling into Tony's pillow.

And of course Pepper's got her arms full with the blanket-wrapped kid, so when Tony comes back Winter ends up nestling against him, metal fingers wound lazily into his shirt, head buried under Tony's chin. Of _course_ Tony's the one who ended up snuggling Murder Barnes.

As with the kid, he awkwardly pats Winter's head. Winter burrows deeper into Tony's shoulder and promptly falls asleep.

Before he drifts off as well, Tony quietly makes a note to JARVIS to let Steve, Bucky, and Mr. AXE Essence they need to be more careful when they schedule special grown-up time. After all, you've got to be responsible when you have a kid.


	2. I Like the Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Their little 'family bed' has become kind of a thing now. The kid will take Winter's hand and drag him to Tony and Pepper's room whenever they're both too worked up to comfort each other after their nightmares._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (These little stories aren't chronological, but this one is a direct follow-up to the first chapter.)

Their little 'family bed' has become kind of a thing now. The kid will take Winter's hand and drag him to Tony and Pepper's room whenever they're both too worked up to comfort each other after their nightmares. James immediately claims Pepper's attention, leaving Winter wrapped around Tony in a trembling three-hundred-pound ball.

Not that Tony really minds. He's no stranger to anxiety, and nightmares linger over his head well into his waking hours. Winter's heavy, solid weight is grounding, the firmness of the metal arm bolstering his sense of security. Nothing's getting to Pepper and him with the Winter Soldier in the way.

Even if Tony now knows the legendary Fist of HYDRA has a weakness for fuzzy sweaters and Hello Kitty slippers.

By now, it no longer surprises him when he wakes to the sound of sniffling in the doorway. Pepper immediately gets up to give each of them a hug while Tony scoots over to make room on the bed.

"Oh, sweetie. You're sweating like crazy. You must have been so scared."

"Uh-huh," James hiccups. "Bad dreams. One of the grown-up games." He shudders.

The mattress dips a little as Winter crawls under the covers, lithe as a cat despite the size of him. "Hey," Tony says quietly, pulling the blankets around them both. Winter settles against him and Tony rubs his back, easing his shaking and soothing out the tension knotted there.

Pepper gently strips off James's sweaty pajamas and pulls one of Tony's T-shirts over his head, reassuring him that Pierce is not here and he doesn't have to play the grown-up games ever again.

The grown-up games. Tony feels a little sick and a lot angry whenever he hears James say it. Like raping someone, like doing it to a mind controlled  _kid,_ is any sort of  _game._ Tony's seen some screwed-up shit, and he's still freaked out at what must have gone on inside that old fuck's head.

Pepper picks James up and holds him close, murmuring sympathetically. "I know. I know, sweetie, you don't feel good. It'll help if you can rest a bit, won't it? I know you're scared. We'll be right here to keep you safe tonight, okay?"

James wraps his arm around her neck and buries his face in her shoulder. After a few minutes of rocking, she carefully lays him down in the bed next to Winter and slides in beside him, still whispering words of comfort. Winter never says what features most prominently in his own nightmares, but he seems soothed by her voice as well. He sighs, deeply and unselfconsciously, and nuzzles his face into Tony's pillow. 

For a moment, all is silent. Then there's the sound of James shifting around in the darkness.

"Mommy..."

"Yes, sweetheart?"

A pause.

"...I forgot."

"Okay. I know you're scared, James, but do you think you could get to sleep? I could rub your back if that would help."

"Maybe," he says reluctantly, "Yeah. Mommy?"

"Yes, James?"

"Thank you."

"Of course, sweetie. Now shut your eyes..." Tony can hear the soft rustling of her brushing his hair back. Winter pushes his head up against Tony's shoulder like a cat; obligingly, Tony strokes his hair, too.

Winter makes a contented little noise and nestles closer to him.  _Weirdo,_ Tony thinks, but without really meaning it. And if he likes it when Winter reaches to clutch at a handful of his shirt before drifting off to sleep, heavy weight giving emphasis to the slow steadiness of his own breathing...well, no one has to know Tony Stark thinks of Murder Barnes as the world's best security blanket.

*

Winter's nightmares aren't like the kid's; he doesn't cry out, just jerks and shudders a bit. The other two don't even wake up at first, and Tony's only roused when Winter's fingers start twitching against his chest.

As he comes awake and starts to move, he realizes that the back of his shirt is sodden, sticking to the sheets. "What th—"

The others have begun to stir by the time Tony understands, and he wishes he hadn't woken them.

"What—" Pepper says, and then, "Oh."

Winter's shaking. He's _actually_ shaking, like he thinks there'll be punishment for this. 

_Does_ he?

"It was me," James blurts out, "I—I—I had an accident."

He really is a sweet kid, Tony thinks. James is wearing a pull-up; he saw it last night when Pepper gave him the T-shirt. And he's way too small to have drenched Tony like this. 

Winter's scrambling up in the bed, hunched over on his knees with his hair hiding his face, breathing shallowly. James latches onto his metal finger, gripping tight. "Don't be mad at him," he pleads, his eyes wide and shiny, "He didn't mean to!"

"No one's mad, sweetheart," Pepper says around a yawn, rubbing at one eye.

Tony holds back a remark about being pissed off and how it's better than being pissed  _on._ See, Pepper, he totally has impulse control. He has _great_ impulse control. He rests a hand on Winter's shoulder just as Pepper scoots James over so she can do the same. He hears a choked little noise and realizes Winter's  _crying;_ he's never seen the assassin cry before. 

"It's all right, Winter," Pepper whispers, rubbing his back, "Really. We can take care of this. No big deal."

And Winter looks so heartbreakingly  _grateful_ that it's giving Tony chest pains. Chest pains of the  _feelings_ variety, not the part-of-my-body-is-trying-to-kill-me type that he's a little more accustomed to. But damn it, he  _does_ have a heart, and from the way the Soldier's acting he thinks maybe there _was_ punishment at some point.

He squeezes Winter's shoulder. "It's all right, buddy. How about you take a breath—actually, please start breathing. Take lots of breaths. Breathe, then shower. Sound good?"

Immediately following the request, Winter inhales rapidly and shakily. There's this thinghe has with orders, especially when he's freaked out. "Good," Tony says. "Breathing. Oxygen. Tends to be a good thing."

Pepper takes James into the main bathroom so she can run him a bubble bath, leaving Tony trying to coax Winter out of the bed to get cleaned up. He finally manages to get the man down the hall, and Tony thinks that'll be the end of it. And blame it on his absentmindedness or lack of caffeine, but he completely doesn't notice Winter's following him until he practically has a heart attack when he turns around in the shower and Tall, Dark, and Creepy is staring at him miserably from from the other end of the tub.

Okay, so out of the maybe ten showers on this floor, Winter just _had_ to get in Tony's. Someone really needs to talk to the guy about boundaries, and about not scaring a man out of his skin when he's _ass-naked and half-awake._

He looks at Winter's red, disconsolate eyes and says nothing, just moves over to share the spray. And honestly, this is probably only in the top _ten_ most uncomfortable showers he's ever taken.

Winter, it turns out, really likes long showers. And stares pleadingly when Tony tries to get out.

"What, are you scared of the Drain Monster?" Tony immediately kicks himself. The kid refused to shower for a week after the Shark Fin Incident, and for all the adult capacity Winter possesses, he seems to follow similar logic to a child at times. If he's convinced the Winter Soldier that the shower drain will try to suck him down, he'll never hear the end of it.

"I." Winter swallows, wraps his arms around himself. "I had a nightmare, I just..."

Tony thinks about what horrors could possibly scare the Soldier like this, and promises to stay, though having HYDRA's greatest assassin hold him hostage in his own shower is really not the way he thought he'd start his day.

By the time he finally coaxes Winter out, Pepper's already dealt with the bed and JARVIS informs him that she and James are in the kitchen making breakfast. Tony tries to find some clothes for Winter to borrow, but he's too big for any of the clothes in the closet. He gives some thought to letting his T-shirt become Winter's crop top, but he's just too wide to fit. The man could probably wear the proffered shirt on one of his thighs; he's fucking  _built._ In the end, the only thing that'll fit him is a god-awful pink leopard-print Snuggie that Tony finds in the back of the closet.

Winter seems happy enough with it, wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing the fuzzy sleeves against his cheek.

They're about go to check how breakfast is coming along when something occurs to him. He stops Winter in the doorway. "Just wondering, has this been a problem for you before? You know, trouble sleeping and all."

"Not usually," Winter mutters, eyes on the ground, "Ever since the split."

"I'm just saying, if you ever want, I'll make you something like I do for the little guy. Any design you wanted, or whatever."

Winter hesitates, his cheeks coloring red, and mumbles something inaudible.

"Gonna have to repeat that. We don't all have superhearing."

The following mumble contains the words "The Captain's shield", followed by what might be "Hello Kitty" and "like the colors."

Tony's learned, by now, not to say a word, because it could possibly get him strangled, or worse, make Winter cry. "Okay, absolutely, I could totally do that. Now let's go, I want at least one pancake before the kid eats them all."

Winter pulls down the hood of the Snuggie to hide his red face and shuffles down the hall, not one to suffer kindly the potential theft of his pancakes.

That's twice in one morning Tony has experienced heart-feelings. It's _way_ too early to be having this many emotions, although this is one of those warm-fuzzy types. If Pepper is Mommy to James, then Tony thinks he just might've become the stand-in parent for the Winter Soldier.

That's not so bad. He might even succeed in getting Winter to call him Tony the Magnificent.

He makes a mental note to try that later, and heads for the coffee.


	3. What's Yours is Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which James shamelessly steals everyone's clothes.

It starts when he accidentally eats the real ice cream instead of the imitation kind Pepper got him. His tummy isn't happy about that, and the ice cream comes up all over his clothes. Bucky takes him to the bathroom because his tummy still hurts and he's not sure it won't happen again.

It turns out Bucky's really good at helping James through feeling sick. He holds his hair back and rubs his tummy and lets James wear his t-shirt because his clothes are all covered in puke. He's still all shivery and sweaty and his insides feel really bad, but the shirt gives him instant comfort. It's still warm from when Bucky was wearing it, and it smells like him. Like home, like the body James used to live in. Curled into Bucky's arm on the bathroom floor, James breathes in that smell and waits for the churning in his gut to ease.

Later that night, he's sitting at the table, tentatively eating plain rice noodles to see if they'll stay down. His tummy is uneasy, but he manages to eat about half the plate, one noodle at a time. He's pretending to be a bird; Natasha told him birds eat worms and so Hawkbear probably does too, and then Hawkbear shot a foam arrow at her. James just remembered that, looking at the noodles, and that's when he got the idea to pretend they were worms.

He's spent a long time wanting to be a bear, but now he's giving serious consideration to birds; they can fly and some of them have sharp fierce talons. He's so busy pretending that he's startled when Bucky pokes him. "I think you're a little confused, buddy. You're not supposed to wear your dinner."

James tries to fold his arms, but it doesn't really work because he only has the one arm now. He settles for glaring instead.

Sometimes he really likes Bucky, like this afternoon when he was sick and Bucky cleaned him up and helped him feel better. Other times, like now, James thinks he's really mean. He ducks his head and sulks, embarrassed. He's not speaking to Bucky again for forever, he decides, or at least however long he feels like it.

"I don't suppose there's a chance I'm getting that shirt back, huh?" Bucky asks. 

"No." Unsuccessful in arm-crossing, he kicks his feet against the legs of his chair to show he means it. He can tell Bucky's trying not to smile. "If you try and take it or if you make fun of me, Bucky Bear will _eat_ you."

Bucky laughs at a lot of things James says, but even he knows bears are serious business. His eyes go wide. "I'll have to be sure not to mess with you or Bucky Bear, then."

James remembers Bucky stroking his hair and murmuring soft words of comfort to him while he was sick, and then he feels a bit bad. He doesn't want anything to happen to Bucky, not really. "He won't actually eat you. Not unless you're _really, really_  mean."

"I'll make sure to remember that. Wouldn't want to face the wrath of the bear." Bucky ruffles his hair and the bear's ears, and they both let him. James picks a noodle off the shirt and considers it. A bird probably wouldn't care if the worm didn't come from a plate, would it? 

He shrugs, and slurps it down. It tastes just as good, even if it does make Pepper shake her head at him from across the table. He thinks he might see about getting Tony to make him wings like Sam's; there's a lot to be said for this  _bird_ thing.

*

It's rare, nowadays, for James to be able to get Daddy on his own. He's always sleeping with Winter or Bucky or the Commander, or all of them at once, and it's not  _fair,_ because that means James can't sleep with  _any_ of them. Sometimes he goes to Pepper and Tony, or else to the bottom bunk in Natasha's room, and that's nice, but he misses hanging around the Commander and reading stories at night with Daddy. He misses that a  _lot._  

So when he's up past his bedtime watching TV on Daddy's floor, he makes sure to be extra good and quiet and still, because if he breaks the silence Daddy might remember he's supposed to be in bed. He tries to soak up every last minute of it, Daddy's hand stroking absently through his hair, the sound of his heartbeat against James's ears. Eventually, though, he can't help yawning, and just like he thought, it makes Daddy check his phone.

"Honey, I think it's past time for bed. You're sleepy."

"Not that sleepy," James argues around another yawn. It's really a halfhearted protest. He  _is_ sleepy, and he kind of  _does_ want to go to bed, but it's been so long since he had any time with Daddy, just the two of them. "I guess maybe a little. But..." he says hopefully, "I'd be awake enough for a bedtime story..."

Daddy's going to say no. He's too busy nowadays and it's late and James isn't in bed when he's supposed to be. Daddy probably just wants to go to the Commander's room to be with the grownups. "Please," he bursts out, "I'll even go get it really quick and  _then_ I'll go to bed I promise I know you're busy with grownup stuff I just _really_ miss getting bedtime stories and, and you reading them to me..." his stupid eyes have blurred over with stupid tears and he's such a dumb  _baby._ Daddy's definitely going to say no now. He'll say James is overtired and needs sleep more than stories.

A warm hand squeezes his shoulder. "Of course I'll read to you, lamb. I'm never too busy for you."

Which isn't strictly  _true,_ not anymore, but James is already calling out  _thank yous_ over his shoulder, running for the elevator before Daddy can change his mind.

In his own room, he scrambles into his pajamas and loads up his arms with books. Okay, he did say  _a_ story, but it's been so long since Daddy read him _any_ and he's way too excited to pick just one. Daddy smiles indulgently when he comes back, and reads through several stories without complaint. James doesn't make it through all of them. He really  _is_ sleepy, and he starts drifting off in the middle of Corduroy. That's okay, though. That one is really one of Bucky Bear's favorites, and Bucky Bear can still listen even when James is asleep.

When his eyes fly open a while later, it's dark and he's scared and...and  _cold._.

He's wet. Wet all over, and the sheets around him are wet, too. He's an _idiot;_ he was so excited to be read to that he completely forgot to put on a pull-up under his pajamas and it was his first night with Daddy in _forever_ and he's _ruined_ it _._ No wonderDaddy never wants him around anymore.

He's still trembling from his nightmare and even though he  _knows_ Daddy probably won't punish him, it's still too scary to wake him up. He just can't do it. Instead he slips silently out of the bed, frantically searching for a place to hide, and ends up crouching in Daddy's closet behind the laundry hamper wondering what he's going to do  _now._

JARVIS decides that for him.  **CAPTAIN ROGERS, I BELIEVE MASTER BARNES REQUIRES YOUR ATTENTION.**

Cold and shuddering in the closet, James waits as Daddy stirs. He's a little mad at JARVIS, but mostly he's just relieved. It really wouldn't have been pleasant to hide here all night, scared and still in his wet pants.

"James?" Daddy says softly, "Are you here?"

Heart pounding, James doesn't answer.

"Let me know if you are, okay? I just want to help."

Help does sound good. Daddy's voice is really soft and not frustrated or disgusted or any of the other things James had worried about. He still can't make himself say words. All he can do is whimper.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You can come out. You're not in any trouble, I promise."

Slowly, he crawls out of the closet. "Sorry," he says, his voice really tiny. He sounds so shaky and small; he's still not used to this new voice.

"It's all right, James. Don't be scared." Daddy kneels down and offers a hand. James takes it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. "Let's get you in the bath. I think you'll feel a lot better."

And he does. The bath is warm and filled with bubbles, and the nightmare fades back to the foggy place of his memories. After he gets out, Daddy helps him into one of his own T-shirts, an old one left over from SHIELD.

Right now, being dressed in Daddy's shirt is the most comforting thing in the world. It makes him feel like maybe Daddy really _does_ still love him and want him and James can't stop burying his face in softness of the fabric. He takes in Daddy's smell, laundry detergent and sweat and maybe something else that James can't quite place but it doesn't matter because he's home and he can _breathe_ again.

He eventually just pulls his head and arms inside and wraps himself all up, a barefooted Halloween ghost in an Iron Man pull-up and a SHIELD t-shirt. He still _feels_ a bit like a ghost, cold, a part of him lost in the place his nightmares come from. But then Daddy finishes cleaning up and leads him back to the bed, and he's here again, safe and sound. He thinks he likes being a bear or a bird or anything else better than being a ghost.

They read the rest of the bedtime stories so that James can calm down enough to go back to sleep.

This shirt, James refuses to remove for three days straight. When he finally does it's only because it no longer carries Daddy's smell. At some point, James decides, the bears will go on a mission to steal another one, because there's no comfort in the world like being wrapped in one of Daddy's t-shirts. It smells like safety.

*

After that, everyone's clothes are open game, although when Natasha raises her eyebrow he quickly concedes ownership of her hoodie. The others don't even try to reclaim their stuff.

There's just a particular kind of security in wearing the oversized garments of his friends and family. Bruce's sweaters are soft, softer even than Winter's, and they carry the aroma of calming teas and the smell that rises up from old books. If tranquility had a smell, it would be this.

The Commander's clothes smell sweet and entirely chemical, like his body spray and his hair gel, but it's still familiar and soothing even if it tickles James's throat and makes him sneeze. The Commander tries to demand his shirt back, but Bucky laughs and tells him not to chase after it or Bucky Bear might eat him.

James decides he likes Bucky again. His bear probably wouldn't eat the Commander, though, even if he does take up way too much of Daddy's attention.

Pepper's shirts smell like baking cookies with a faint trace of perfume. Tony's carry the scent of electricity, although it's stronger on Thor's cape, which trails down the hall behind him as he runs around waving his toy Mjolnir.

Later on, Thor graciously detangles an abashed James from the cape and tells him he'd make a very worthy stand-in ruler. His decree that cookies shall be eaten for breakfast reflects that he gives much thought to the desires of his subjects, and his ban on leeches shows that he cares greatly about their well-being. On Thor's next visit, he has a small James-sized cape. James continues to steal his anyway, but Thor never gets mad.

Clint doesn't even seem to notice his clothes going missing, so James has a lot of those. They smell like Lucky and like outdoors, fresh air and autumn leaves.

Daddy really does try to make time for all three Buckys, but it's hard. Sometimes all the grown-ups are busy being with each other and then James feels lonely and unwanted. And that's when he puts on the pilfered clothes. The others raise their eyebrows when they see James walking past draped in their sweaters like long fleecy gowns, although Thor looks at him in Winter's fuzzy pink pullover and announces that James would be a fine leader indeed, as he is very sharply dressed.

It's Thor who first gets him to really talk about how he feels. With his endless stream of amiable praise and his hugs and his smiles, he's the one who still gives James his undivided attention. And he's so easy to talk to; he acts like he's really listening.

"I get so _sad,_ " he mumbles, "Now that I'm not in Bucky's head anymore, it's like they don't want me around at all."

"I can assure you with certainty, Dear One," Thor begins, kneeling to place his hands on James's shoulders, "You are most highly valued here. Your family even thinks most fondly of your recent thievery of their clothing." He smiles.

James sniffles and wipes at his eyes. "When someone gives you their sweater it's like having them hug you all the time."

Thor considers this. "Is that so?"

Has no one ever done that for Thor? "Come on, we're gonna go get one of mine."

Thor tries to protest, but James won't hear any of it. The two of them spend the rest of the day playing bear games in the playroom, James carefully wrapped up in Thor's cape and Thor with one of James's sweaters tied around his neck in its place. And before Thor leaves, he gives James one of the longest, tightest hugs ever.

And that evening, when he is asked why he has Thor's cape, he gets to announce that Thor declared him worthy.

"You certainly are, Mishka," Winter says, and for the rest of the night he gets to sit in Winter's lap and boss them all around while they get him whatever he wants. Daddy says no to a third cookie, while Bucky winks and hands him the cookie when Daddy's not looking. James feels a little guilty, but not guilty enough to keep from eating it. Basking in all the attention, he feels a lot better. Maybe he really is loved after all, and maybe, just maybe, they're eventually going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned that most things I write are ridiculous?
> 
> This chapter would take place shortly after the split, before things started to get really settled, which is why James is still feeling so insecure about his place in the Tower.


	4. What Every Kid Should Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James was only trying to teach his classmates some really important things he's learned. He doesn't understand why he's in trouble.

Recently James has been doing really well in school, but every so often, Steve still gets calls from an Mrs. Smith. Usually Bucky's the one to go sort it out. He's levelheaded and charming, good for smoothing out a sticky situation, convincing the teacher to let the incident slide.

Steve can tell Mrs. Smith tries not to audibly sigh when she sees him or Rumlow, particularly when he comes in armed with pages of photocopied childcare references or printouts from parenting blogs. But things always end up getting worked out, because Steve's Captain America and she does know he means well, and because she doesn't know who Rumlow actually is. She's under the impression that he's a down-on-his-luck uncle, injured on the job and trying to get his life back together. It isn't entirely a lie.

A couple of times, even Pepper has gone to speak with the teacher. She's pretty skilled at mitigating minor disasters from her experience in cleaning up Tony's messes.

If no one else can go, they send Winter, keep their fingers crossed, and someone later takes a trip to the store to buy the poor woman a nice box of chocolates or a bottle of wine.

Today, however, Mrs. Smith didn't sound exasperated over the phone. She sounded concerned. Very concerned. And when she'd relayed some of the things James had been saying, how upset he'd become when he was told to stop, well, Pepper, Steve, Bucky, and Winter had all piled into the car and gone down to the school immediately.

James had been taken to the guidance counselor's office, and was curled into a ball under her chair. His face was buried in his knees and he'd refused to look up.

Only after all the other children have been packed onto school buses and sent on their way home does Mrs. Smith join them in the room. By now James has been coaxed out from under the chair and sits on the floor, nestled between Steve and Winter with his face hidden behind his bear.

"James," she begins, "Do you want to sit up in a chair so we can talk about what happened today?"

He shakes his head without looking up.

"He's fine right here," Steve says, giving James a squeeze.

"Can we talk about earlier, then?"

James shrugs. "You can," he says in a flat, tiny voice, "Don't care. Don't wanna come back here."

Okay,  _that's_ really worrying. James was the one who'd really pushed for public schooling. He could have been homeschooled; Tony certainly has enough money to hire private tutors, but James wanted so badly to get to play with other kids. His transition into the classroom had been a little rocky at times, but he'd been adamant about sticking out the year. What could have happened for him to give that up?

"James," the teacher says carefully, "I want to be clear, it's not that you've done anything wrong—"

"I'm _always_ doing something wrong!" he gasps with sudden vehemence, "Ever since I got like this all I ever do are things that are bad! That's all anyone ever says to me now! I'm _always_ in trouble! I don't even mean to be!"

"You're not in trouble, James," Mrs. Smith says while the others offer words of comfort. That he's just got to get used to what things are like now. That he needs some time to adjust to the way the school system works. That they understand.

Steve feels like he's been punched right in the chest. Like he's small again, asthmatic and hurting, unable to draw breath. James is usually pretty easily distracted from distressing thoughts, and he sometimes forgets he can't count on that long-term. The idea that he's been tallying up each misunderstanding and mishap, that he feels like he can't do anything right...Steve really should have talked to him about this. These things were inevitably going to happen, and James needs to know that, needs to know that these instances aren't failures. That they're prepared to help him as much as he needs.

He takes James's hand. "It's okay, buddy. Want to tell me what's going on?"

"I was only saying what the doctors said!" James says in a rapid-fire burst of speech, trying to keep back tears, "They said—they said  _every_ kid should know. An' you don't have to do things you don't want, like how no one should ever make you play the grown-up games! They _said_. They  _said_ every kid should know that, but when I said—" he breaks off, looking pleadingly up at them.

"The grown-up games?" Mrs. Smith repeats, looking faintly unnerved. Steve's heart is sinking. Bucky had always felt so much shame over the sexual abuse, it never occurred to him that James might bring it up in school.

The poor kid breaks down sobbing, and Steve pulls him into a hug. "Shh, lamb. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But it's—" James whimpers into his shoulder, "It's  _dirty,_ it's—then why did _she_ get so upset, why did _they_ —"

The teacher has now come to kneel beside their little pile on the floor. "James. Listen to me. You haven't done anything wrong and you're not in trouble."

James glances uncertainly up at her, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm—I'm not?"

"I only called your family because I was concerned about what might be going on in your life, from some of the things you were saying," she explains gently, "And you can talk to me about any of that, right? Or your aide, or the guidance counselor, if you want. There are some things that aren't appropriate to say in a classroom, but we can talk about that later, all right? When you're feeling a little better?"

"But..." James falters, "...my doctors said it has to be okay to talk about that stuff! Only—only Katie doesn't like when people touch her, kind of like Freddie, only the other kids kept poking her and that's all I  _said_ is they shouldn't do that, my doctors said kids should be able to say no to touching. So they know how to say no if anyone tries to do the bad games, only—" his eyes are bright, his cheeks flushed, he speaks feverishly and with shaking desperation. "Only if they really  _are_ dirty and I wasn't supposed to tell and now everyone  _knows_ and I never want to come back here again!"

And with that, he scoots back under the chair and bursts into tears once more. Pepper kneels at a distance, holding out a hand to stop the rest of them so he won't be overwhelmed. While she tries to calm him down, Mrs. Smith confers with the others. "It's not in his file that he was sexually abused."

"It isn't?"  _Does his whole life have to be offered up for everyone to poke through? Didn't they do enough of that during his trial?_ "The people who had him before, it wasn't a great situation."

"Is he _adopted_? I'm sorry, I'd just assumed..." her eyes sweep over Bucky and Winter, who of course look exactly like James.

"Sort of. It's a long story."  _Note to self: come up with a story._

Pepper's still trying to convince James that he's not dirty and he has nothing to be ashamed of, but Steve knows just how hard it is for him to believe that. Which won't be made any easier by the fact that the other kids in his class might ask questions, might even bully him, about what he's revealed. They don't understand, they don't know better, but...

"Do you think you could do something to come between him and the other kids next time he sees them?"

"Possibly. It's hard to know how they'll react to things like this." Mrs. Smith says quietly. "I'll do my best. Hey, James?"

He sniffles. "Uh-huh?"

She kneels down to see him better. "First of all, I owe you an apology. I didn't mean to make you feel like you were in trouble. I'm sorry."

Steve immediately respects her a whole lot more. Not a lot of adults will apologize to a child when they mess up, and it'll be good for James to see her acknowledging her mistakes and moving on. That's something he still gets stuck on, thanks to Pierce and his "punishments".

"Your doctors are right," Mrs. Smith continues when James doesn't respond, "You can talk about anything you need to talk about, there's nothing wrong with that. The only thing is, in a classroom environment, some of the other kids might not feel safe talking about certain things like—the bad games—" she looks a little bit sickened, "—and some of them may be confused or scared by it. It's the kind of thing they should really hear about from their parents, okay?"

"Oh," James whispers. "I didn't mean to...didn't mean to be bad."

"You weren't bad," Mrs. Smith, Steve, and Pepper say at the same time. "In fact," Mrs. Smith continues, "you had a point. It's good that everyone knows they have their own choices about themselves, and that's a big part of making a classroom a safe space, isn't it? So I actually had an idea, and I was wondering if I could have your help."

James carefully uncurls himself under the chair, poking his tearstained face out.

"I was thinking that during Group Activities on Friday we could have an activity about everyone getting to make those choices," she says, "And about how it's not okay for one person to force another person to do something they don't want to. And maybe you and I could talk, and you could help me plan some of the points we should cover."

James considers this. "Do I have to go up in front of the class? I don't...if they all think I, um—"

"Nope, you don't have to, but you can," she answers, "I'll let you think about that. And if anyone gives you a hard time, you can let me know and I'll talk to them, okay?"

He nods, scrubbing his eyes dry. "'Kay."

All right, so today was bad. At least they got through the conference without Winter threatening to stomp anyone or set bears on them, so there's one success. 

As soon as they're out of the room James bursts into tears again. Bucky scoops him up and hugs him tight. "What's the matter, bug?"

"They  _know,_ " gasps James, "Everyone in my class  _knows._ I'm so  _dumb,_ I  _told_ them."

No one really knows what to say to that. Steve is mentally kicking himself all the way back into 1945 for failing to have this conversation with James before he went to school. He tried _so hard_ to get over the shame of everything that happened to him, and Steve never warned him that other people might not be as supportive as his family in the Tower.

Eventually Pepper says, "You didn't do anything wrong. And if anyone asks, that's what you can tell them. Nothing that happened to you was your fault."

"They all just  _looked_ at me like I—Kevin said—the stuff I said was d _-disgusting_."

_"Honey,"_   Steve whispers, wrapping his arms around Bucky so that James is sandwiched between them. "Sweetheart, no, it's okay."

"It  _is,_ " James says dejectedly, "And I  _told._ I'm  _stupid_ and I should never ever come back here." 

Winter, unsure what to do with Bucky and Steve taking up all the hugging-James space, awkwardly pats his head with the metal hand. James leans his whole face against it and it occurs to Steve that he must be really overheated. He's sweating from freaking out for who _knows_ how long, and he's cried a _lot_. "Someone get him some water. Cold water."

Winter tries to do it, but James makes a noise of protest and grabs for the metal hand, so Pepper goes in search of a fountain while the others stroke James's hair and rub his back and murmur words of comfort.

"Hey, bug," Bucky says finally, "You know, they're called 'grown-up games' because grown-ups do that stuff. Right?"

"Um. I guess?" Steve wonders what the hell Bucky's doing, talking about this while James is still all worked up. But he seems to have some sort of plan, so Steve lets him go on.

"Well, they do. But not with kids, because that's not okay. It scared you, didn't it, when it happened? You didn't like it?"

"No. It, uh. Sometimes..." James lowers his voice, checking the hall to make sure no one is around. "Sometimes it hurt."

"Right, okay, so grown-ups don't do that with kids. And a grown-up who _would_ do that to a kid, well, that grown-up wouldbe pretty awful, huh?" James looks vaguely uncomfortable. Steve's gut still churns at the thought that the kid can call himself dirty and disgusting, but cannot bring himself to say the same of Pierce. "But the kid didn't do anything wrong."

"Right," James says flatly, staring at nothing, "My doctors said."

"And it's true," Bucky goes on, as Pepper comes back with a bottle of water, "And I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, kid, I know it doesn't feel good. But if they ask, that's what you can tell them. You can tell them you didn't do anything wrong, understand? The bad guy here is the person who hurt you like that. Or you can always say you don't want to talk about it. You don't have to tell them sh—anything if you don't want."

He's more relaxed now, worn out from crying. He'll need a nap when he gets home. And a bath, and Steve's going to enlist Rumlow to make James a giant pancake if it's possible. Anything to help the kid feel better after the day he's had; Steve would even put on the old Cap suit, the costume one with the tights, if it meant James would smile again.

"Listen, kid, how about this? We'll see how you're feeling tomorrow morning. If you think you need a day off, you can have one. But if you do go to school, and things get bad for you? You know one of us'll come get you."

James slumps against Bucky's shoulder, eyes at half-mast. "'Kay."

"And if anyone gives you any trouble," Winter says ominously, "You can crush them, little cub."

"No you can't," Pepper says, holding her water bottle to his lips, "You can tell Mrs. Smith, and let her handle it."

Winter sulks.

James nearly falls asleep on the car ride home, and Steve carries him into the Tower. They crash in Rumlow's apartment, Bucky and Steve curled around James in the bed while Rumlow and Winter promise the world's largest pancake waiting for them when they wake up. Steve hopes Rumlow realizes Winter may take that literally, and almost instructs JARVIS not to let him look up world pancake records. But, hey, it's Rumlow, and sometimes it's fun to fuck with him. If the Winter Soldier holds him hostage to make the world's most perfect pancake for James, Steve won't exactly be rushing to stop him.

Bucky takes his hand as they rest with James nestled snugly between them, nuzzling Steve's shirt and sucking his prosthetic thumb. "I know what you're doing."

"What?" Steve says, still thinking of the pancake.

"You're beating yourself up for this. You think it's your fault."

"Well, yeah," Steve says, "I should've made it clear—"

Bucky cuts him off, squeezing his shoulder. "Steve," he says, "Always with the self-flagellation. This kid's been through some messed-up shit. We all have, and we're all really messed up. This shit's gonna happen. You can't fix everything, even if you seem to think that's your personal God-given job in life."

Steve swats him, but he goes on earnestly, "Look, Steve, we're all gonna make mistakes, and even if we were perfect, this shit would still happen sometimes. And when it does we'll get him through it. This is rough, but we're gonna get him through it. All right?"

Steve looks down at James, peaceful in sleep, one little hand squeezing gently on the foot of his bear. All of a sudden he's overwhelmed with gratitude. He has his Bucky back, and his son, and he has his bizarre little family. It hits him, as it does now and again, that for the first couple years after he got out of the ice, he felt so damn alone. And he thought he'd always _be_ alone.

And now he has this, and it's a weird-ass family, sure, but so much better than he ever could have asked for. And they'll get James through all his hard times, and Bucky will get Steve through all _his_ hard times, and if he thought he'd never have anything like this again, well, can he help tearing up a little?

"Thank you," he says hoarsely, and Bucky smiles at him and kisses his forehead, pulling him in close. Safe and together, crisis managed (at least for this moment) Steve closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep. 


	5. The World's Biggest Pancake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter made James a promise and dammit, he's going to keep it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow-up to the last chapter.

"Forty-nine feet and three inches," Winter announces as Brock is heating the stove.

"What was that?" he asks absentmindedly, searching in his fridge for the eggs.

"The world's largest pancake was forty-nine feet and three inches in diameter. It also measured at one inch deep and weighed three tons. It was made in Manchester in 1994," Winter explains.

Brock still doesn't understand. "Okay, buddy, why exactly are you telling me this?"

Winter stares at him. " _We_ promised James the world's largest pancake."

Oh. Oh,  _fuck._ "Winter, we're not making a fifty-foot pancake."

"It wouldn't have to be fifty feet," Winter says helpfully, "Forty-nine feet and four inches would beat the previous record."

"Winter—look what we have here. There's no way we've got enough mix to make a fifty-foot pancake. Or enough space in this room." Winter understands things like mission parameters. He'll realize the giant pancake is impossible, won't he?

 **SIR HAS ALREADY VOLUNTEERED THE USE OF HIS LABORATORY AFTER I TOOK THE LIBERTY OF INFORMING HIM OF YOUR ENDEAVOR.** Brock could swear there's a smirk in the AI's voice; he knows where  _he_ stands with pretty much everyone in this fucking building.  **HE HAS ALREADY ORDERED THE INGREDIENTS TO BE DELIVERED.**

Winter smiles, looking almost childlike in his happiness, and Brock sighs.

 _Fuck._ At least Stark will have booze in the lab.

*

"Thought you were drying out, Extra Crispy." Tony  _tsks_ at him and sets the batter in a giant centrifuge. "Damn, I've been wanting a reason to use this thing."

"Why do you even have it?" Bruce calls from his workbench, bending over a microscope.

"Three words, buddy. _Giant spinny toy_." Tony flips the switch and the thing starts whirling. "Anyway, I thought Shake 'n Bake here was going sober."

"More like forced prohibition," Rumlow mutters, taking a giant gulp of _whatever's_ in the bottle. It burns perfectly going down like it can scorch out all his disappointment and his shame and his regret. His grief for—

"You might want to be careful in the lab," Bruce says, rising from his bench, "Wouldn't want to end up getting our research mixed up with Tony's drinks. Nasty stuff." He holds up a slide, eyebrow raised.

Rumlow eyes the bottle, shrugs, and takes another pull.

When the batter has been fully mixed, and all the chocolate chips and blueberries and bananas have been accorded to their appropriate sections—and Winter finally feels his threats to make Brock into chocolate chips are being taken seriously enough—Tony starts placing spare suit thrusters around the room. Brock retreats behind the Hulk-proof viewing glass with Bruce despite Winter's sullen glaring. He's had enough of the high heat for a lifetime, fuck you very much. He feels it often enough in his nightmares. He'd rather take his chances with the Big Guy, thanks. 

Tony lets Winter torch the pancakes himself, insisting that he's a horrible cook and Winter probably knows his way around a flamethrower. The Soldier gets so excited he actually bounces up and down a little. Brock has to admit it's been worth it just to see that.

It's worth it, too, to see James's reaction to the finished pancake. He immediately starts rolling himself up inside it, giggling, his shame and tears forgotten. Tony snaps pictures to send to Guinness, because of course no touching gesture can go without a photo-op. 

Before they eat, James gives Winter a hug, thanking him profusely and begging, "Can you teach me how to torch a pancake, Winter? I wanna see!" Which is really fucking wonderful, great parenting, Tony, but then James detaches himself from Winter and runs over to thank Brock, too. He even remembers not to jump up, instead tugging Brock down so they can hug without hurting the burn scars, and he's reminded that there's one person left in this world who doesn't hate him, one chance left for him to be more than just the complete fuck-up that he undeniably is.

He gives the kid a genuine hug back, blinking back the sting in his eyes. "All right, kid, all right. Come on, let's go see how torched pancake tastes."


End file.
